


Something to Celebrate

by Louffox



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Turmoil, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Happy Ending, I saw a picture of Ben in eyeliner and decided I needed to put Zolf in eyeliner IMMEDIATELY, Love, M/M, Partying, ZOLF IN A DRESS, and then accidentally wrote all sorts of feelings, no beta we die like men, post world saving, they're married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louffox/pseuds/Louffox
Summary: “I know it’s not particularly your scene, but I’ll make it worth it,” Oscar said sweetly, giving him a jaunty eyebrow and dragging the backs of his fingers down his cheek, combing through his beard.Zolf frowned. “You know I’m immune to your bribery and wiles.”Wilde is excited about a party, until he realizes he might be the only one.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Azu, Skraak/Jasper, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	Something to Celebrate

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an excuse to put the characters in fancy party clothes and turned into all sorts of emotional turmoil and me going over some of my own issues and also something I learned from some really wonderful people (I love my assorted cheeses so much)
> 
> ANYWAYS enjoy.

“I know it’s not particularly your scene, but I’ll make it worth it,” Oscar said sweetly, giving him a jaunty eyebrow and dragging the backs of his fingers down his cheek, combing through his beard.

Zolf frowned. “You know I’m immune to your bribery and wiles.”

Oscar crowded into his space, fitting his front against Zolf’s back, hunching to bury his nose in the crook of his neck. “You are not.”

“I am.”

“That time off the coast of Sri Lanka, when you wanted to go back and drown the ones who stuck me with the poisoned arrow.”

“I wasn’t succumbing to your bribes and wiles, I was happy for the distraction. But you don’t have to bribe me. I’ll go,” Zolf huffed, rolling his eyes. Wilde smiled against his shoulder so he could feel it, and straightened to nibble at his ear.

Zolf rolled his shoulder irritably, and Wilde stepped back with his own noise of impatience. “Look, it won’t be that bad. There will be drinks, people, it’ll be good for everyone to relax and let their hair down. Everyone is going. It’ll make Hamid happy. And you haven’t seen Azu since she got back from her village. The world is getting better, we need to celebrate it.”

“I know, I know. I’m not mad about that, I’m just irritated with this recipe- Jijun promised it was easy, and this is the second time it’s sank.” Oscar wandered closer and examined the contents of the bowl, and dipped a finger in. It was something thick and pale, and tasted creamy and sweet with a rich tang of cheese and citrus.

“What do you think is wrong with it? It’s delicious,” Oscar declared, going back for a second fingerful.

“It’s supposed to be airy. It’s a cheesecake, but whipped- the bowl should be almost full, but every time I fold the yolk and cream mixture into the meringue, it falls.”

“I mean, I say bake it anyways. I’d eat it.”

“But it’s not right,” Zolf growled, chucking a whisk into the sink with more force than was necessary, and shoving the bowl away from himself. Oscar barely caught it before it fell off the counter.

“This is all just north of actual magic to me. You can try again on Tuesday, I’ll pick up some more ingredients when I go to the city tomorrow.” 

"Sure, and just ruin it again. Right. Waste of ingredients." He grabbed the bowl and dumped the entire contents straight in the garbage. The force of his motions and angry set to his jaw made it clear that he needed some space, so Wilde quietly left. When Zolf was angry, he liked to be alone. And there was nothing that set him off more than pity.

Was he really that mad about the cheesecake? Or was it the party?

This all didn’t bode well, if he was already this irritated just at the concept of the party. He was definitely going to need to be a bit less obvious about his bribes too- perhaps he would see if he could just smuggle Zolf’s favorite wine into the party and pretend it had been there at the bar. Maybe Hamid would be able to cheer him up. Or Edward. Maybe he would warn Hamid that they weren’t going to stay long. He tried not to be disappointed- he hadn’t been to a party in a very long time, and he missed dancing. And it would be exciting to go to a party without an objective or some boring or vicious aristocrat he was trying to seduce. Just he and his lover, a night out on the town, music, dancing, drinks, friends. Zolf liked darts- maybe he’d see if he could arrange for darts to be at the venue…

~~

By the time the night of the party arrived, he’d barely mentioned it. He was a bit frustrated with it all- Zolf’s reluctance to do something he so enjoyed was a little grating. Oscar didn’t hesitate to participate in things that Zolf liked that weren’t high on his list of enjoyable things. The time Zolf wanted to go parasailing, he’d joined him, and had let him drag him out on that canoeing and fishing trip that once. He’d been up half the night after, scratching bug bites, but he loved seeing Zolf happy, and that was all worth it.

Did Zolf not feel the same?

Oscar hadn’t asked him for much that they didn’t both enjoy. This was the first time he’d asked Zolf to do something for him. And his response was clear. A refusal to even bring up the party. Slamming things around in the kitchen.

He wanted to marry him one day. How would they manage a wedding, much less a life together, if Zolf refused to meet him halfway? It nagged at him more than it should have. Perhaps he was being dramatic. Or maybe Zolf wasn’t the soul mate he’d thought. It kept him up at night. (Luckily, it wasn’t uncommon for his sleep to be troubled and out of reach, so Zolf didn’t question it when he left the bed in the early hours of morning.)

He turned his sleeves of many garments into many, many,  _ many _ garments the night before the party, his dejection making him indecisive and irate. Zolf had said he was going over to Hamid’s to get some clothes, so Oscar was getting ready alone. By this point, he wasn’t even a little excited for the party. He’d lost sleep over it, Zolf was now clearly avoiding him by going to Hamid’s, the fun time he’d wanted in the first place had turned into such a stressor that he was just dreading the entire ordeal. Dressing up wasn’t even fun anymore- he didn’t know what Zolf would be wearing, so couldn’t exactly match him.

Okay, maybe that was a bit petty, being so dejected about not matching their colors.

Some couple they were. 

His spirits were low, like a wet rag dragging behind him. Doing his makeup was done mostly on autopilot- prestidigitating the dark circles under his eyes when concealer wasn’t quite doing the trick to hide the restless nights. He didn’t bother doing anything with his scar- sometimes he covered it, sometimes he brushed it with glitter and color like a beauty mark. Tonight he just left it alone. When he was finished, he realized he’d gone with such a dark palette that he’d ended up with a grim look, more sullen and mournful than bright eyed.

It felt right for his mood.

But he took it off and tried again, going fully in the opposite direction, selecting some bright gold and purples that were stark against the robins egg blue suit he picked. The look finished with some nude matte lipstick, so the focal point of the look was his bright eyes under carefully filled brows.

Staring at himself in the mirror, he gave a practice smile at the face looking back. Now he was lively, all eyes and expressive brows. It had always been easy for him to put on a smile. He concentrated a bit and lifted his brows, widening his eyes, and now it was a perfect sell on happy, cheerful, fun, friendly. His expressions were just well trained muscles he could flex and manipulate at will, betraying none of the internal conflict he was feeling.

The smile faded a bit when he considered shoes- the ones he had planned on were shiny and comfortable and excellent for dancing, but he wondered if he would dance at all. If Zolf was miserable, he would be as well.

_ I can do this. _

He went to their kitchen, selected a bottle of gin from the cupboard, and took a swig straight from the bottle. Hypothetically, he understood that Zolf was an honest man, but realistically, the idea of being unable and unwilling to fake-it-till-you-make-it and put on a brave face for a mission (or someone you loved) was alien to him. He knew he had a higher tolerance for lying and playing pretend than most- gods, but he knew, that had been his entire life for years, he’d built an entire career on it- but couldn’t Zolf just endure one night for Oscar?

One more swig from the bottle, a quick wipe of the mouth of it to get the lipstick off, and then he headed off to meet his partner at the party, schooling his face into something confident and satisfied, the familiar act of putting a mask on a form of self-soothing.

At the venue, a large hall at the nearby university that had been decorated with bronze and red silks, glittering fairy lights, marvelous glowing light bulbs, and crystal glasses of booze on every surface. There were people milling about outside, and from the vibrations he felt through his feet, the dancing and partying was going well inside as well. Oscar had opted to arrive fairly late, ensuring he would get to see at least some of the peak party even before he surely left early when Zolf bored of it.

“Mr. Wilde!” Skraak called, waving from where he was smoking by the door. Oscar brightened his smile and went over to greet him and the other kobolds he was standing with.

“Skraak, good to see you! How have you been?”

“Brilliant, the party is really getting going in there!”

“I thought you’d be dancing with Jasper? You’re missing the fun for cancer sticks?” Oscar demured, plucking the cigarette from his fingers and taking a puff.

“Oh, we’ve been dancing. He’s hydrating right now. And I’m dragon-kin, I’m immune to smoke. What’s your excuse?” he laughed, taking a new one out and lighting it.

_ I’m headed into what should’ve been a wonderful fun night, and all I want to do is go home and drink on the couch until I fall asleep, and really couldn’t give a rat’s ass about cancer right now. _ “I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Don’t let Zolf hear you say that, dwarves live for a long time, I thought?”

“Mmm. Have he and Hamid arrived yet?”

Now Skraak blinked at him, and Oscar didn’t let his facade of easy pleasure and confidence falter, blowing a mouthful of smoke up at the stars and smiling. Skraak was clearly wondering why Oscar didn’t know when his own partner was arriving.

“Uh… y-yeah, they’ve been here a while, actually. I kinda wondered where you were. Didn’t ask though, none of my business.”

“I simply take a bit longer to get dressed up. This doesn’t come without effort,” Oscar said languidly, running a hand through his glossy hair.

“Sure, sure. Zolf and Hamid were getting ready for like,  _ two hours _ before the party. They just started early, though.”

Hamid was pretty quick at dressing up, cheating with prestidigitation where Oscar usually enjoyed the act of applying makeup and hair shimmer and working for it (especially since his bout in the no-magic cuffs) so he wondered what had taken them so long. Perhaps Zolf had been belligerent. He was good at that.

Maybe the gin was a bad idea. He wasn’t being very charitable.

“Hmm. Well, I ought to head in.”

“Right, see you round.”

He took his time going in, greeting everyone warmly and being sure to exchange a few words, asking after family, friends, partners, slipping into the role of effortless socialite like a well worn, favorite pair of shoes. He knew he was stalling seeing Zolf. It really was a bit ridiculous how this party was giving him such thoughts and worry over the state of their relationship. Zolf loved him, he really did.

_ Then why won’t he put any effort into something he knows you love? _

He reached for a glass of champagne and opted to slam rather than sip the bubbles, expertly smothering a burp. This wasn’t his first time struggling through a soiree and coping a la champagne shots. Though he hadn’t really expected to be putting himself through this particular flavor of suffering again, when the world had collapsed, when he’d found Zolf, when they’d rebuilt the world and governments, when he’d stopped being a spy and a socialite and had become a visible organizational head and moderator.

He’d thought this part of his life was behind him, sure he’d moved to a new chapter when Zolf had first found him standing in the rain one night. He had been crying in private, because nothing meant anything and all his word and climbing and power was gone, and all he had left was his facade and the steel mask, a perception of power. He had to save that, so he had to hide his tears. But Zolf saw him break, and then that too was gone, and he had nothing left in the world- but only for a split second, because Zolf had taken his hand and pulled him into a hug and reassured him that he had him, that  _ I’ve got you, Oscar, and you’ve got me, alright?-  _ and just like that, he had something again, he had someone, and had sobbed even harder because now he had something- something to lose- he had thought-

_ You haven’t lost him. It’s just a party _ , he firmly told himself. It didn’t help the pit in his stomach that had been growing deeper and darker all week.  
  


He carried on inside. There was Barnes passing a flask to Haringay, whom Oscar intercepted and chatted with for a bit. He found the edge of the dance floor and dodged Earhart leading a giggling Saira by the hand into the sayshaying mass. Then he spent a merry while catching up with Liliana and Curie, who were working with Bi Ming nowadays to create a crystal communication network, and something about planes and dimensions and pockets that could be accessed from multiple places at once… it all went a bit over Oscar’s head, especially as buzzed as he was. But again, this was all familiar and easy, so maintaining the conversation despite his lack of understanding and burgeoning inebriation was effortless routine.

Eventually, he saw Azu over the top of the crowd, and excused himself from the conversation. He’d been at the party for a bit over an hour now and should probably stop avoiding Zolf. He wasn’t looking forward to this at all. 

Because seeing Zolf meant he had to be a good partner and accept that he didn’t want to be at this party, and would want to go home soon. And that was fine. Oscar was fine with that. Oscar was a good partner.

Oscar was also human, and was susceptible to human feelings like expectation and disappointment and weird complex emotions about sharing experiences and doing things you didn’t love for the people you love, which he recognized wasn’t always good or healthy and people had boundaries, and really, he was the asshole if he couldn’t recognize and respect Zolf’s choices and comfort levels-

-he was the asshole-

Oh.

_ Ah, there it is _ .

So that was why he was so worried all week about this party and the situation’s bearing on their relationship. He wasn’t worried that their relationship was doomed because Zolf wasn’t putting effort in to appreciate or even endure the things that Oscar liked. He was worried that their relationship was doomed because he was being an asshole and not respecting his boundaries and comfort levels.

Recognizing this didn’t help the sinking feeling. In fact, it just made it worse. Because it wasn’t something up for debate. He had always known he was an ass. He was a terrible person. It was why he was able to fall into the role and walk the walk and play the game so well. Because he fit in with it. Because he was just as bad as the scum he schmoozed with. He chould chat and flirt with Bertie and his ilk because he was one of them. And actually, he was worse, even, because most of them were scum because they didn’t know to be anything else, and he was scum and knew he was and knew how to not be- but he chose to be scum instead.

He and Zolf weren’t doomed because of a lack of effort from Zolf.

He and Zolf were doomed because he was, and would always be, awful.

There was Azu. And beside her, Hamid. She stepped to the side to catch a platter of hor d'oeuvres and there was Zolf.

Wait no.

Wait.

What?

That couldn’t be Zolf.

Oscar was a politician. A handler. He was a professional at not showing shock, at taking things coolly and calmly and not responding to surprises with much more than a blink.

Despite this, he actually stopped walking and stood still as though struck, and his mouth dropped open.

Zolf was-

Zolf-

Zolf was-

He blinked a few times, mentally resetting, and tried again.

Zolf was there. Dressed up. In a dress. And a dress and pretty and makeup and oh my god were his nails  _ painted _ and earrings and-

Back up. Slow down.

Zolf had a dress on. A deep navy sheath with short spiky sleeves, barely capping his shoulders and baring all the tattoos that wrapped his arms. It was crew neck and covered in what looked like scales, smoothing over his broad chest and hugging his waist, taut over his hips and stopping at his thighs, baring a lot of leg. He had his metallic legs fully on display, glittering silver and black greased joints and copper wires. His beard was in his usual braid, perhaps a bit sleeker and free of frizz, the green brooch at the end complimented with a few other rings with blue lapis stones set in them. His hair was spiked at the top and front, a challenging and youthful fauxhawk, with a feathering of navy sparingly combed in.

His ears were threaded with heavy blue lapis stones, and one ear had a high cuff of bronze metal twisted around a green stone. His eyes were heavily lined with matching blue, lashes thick with mascara, and a thick, shimmering gold eyeshadow layered on his eyelids.

Wilde’s eyes raked over it a second time, a third. Trying to take it in.

_ Oh hell. He’s hot. _

_ And mine. _

_ If only I could be less of an asshole for a moment, maybe. _

Oscar remembered how to move again, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He just wanted to stay right there, right then, staring at Zolf forever.

And then Zolf saw him.

And then Zolf became even more beautiful, impossibly, because he  _ smiled _ . Right at Oscar. 

  
It was like being hit by the sun.

  
Zolf gestured him over, catching a champagne flute from a passing tray.

Oscar moved toward him like he was falling into him, like gravity had gone wrong and direction had shifted and now Zolf was down and he was tumbling to him. Helpless. He accepted the glass with an unexpectedly steady hand, and let Zolf kiss the back of his hand. He barely noticed any of it.

“Hello,” he said faintly.

“Where have you been? We’ve been here for hours,” Zolf said, taking a sip of his champagne. His nails were painted the same blue, flecked with gold. Oscar swallowed. He couldn’t remember how to blink.

“I… I thought you didn’t like parties.”

Zolf cocked his head. “What made you think that? I like people, especially these people,” he said, winking at Azu, “and drinks, and dancing, and I haven’t wore a dress in ages.”

Oscar was about to start opening and closing his mouth like a dumb goldfish, so he took a large swig of his champagne. “Okay. Okay. But… I thought… you didn’t want to come. You were irate about it. You were damn near furious.”

Zolf’s brows went up. “What, when you first asked? I was mad about the cheesecake, Oscar, not the party. You thought I didn’t like parties?”

“I mean… you’re… you’re a sailor, and kind of… you’re not an extrovert or a socialite…”

“I don’t like faking and schmoozing, you’re right. But this is a good time out with people I know and like.”

“You… I’m sorry, did you say you like dancing?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, mouth twisting in a wry smirk. “You really had no idea that I had this in me, did you?"  
  
“I… I… I thought you were mad at me. I thought… I thought you were being an ass for not even wanting to endure something I enjoy. I thought  _ I _ was an ass for expecting you to do this for me.” His usual eloquence and verbose mannerisms were absolutely trashed, in ruins from the vision in front of him.

Zolf considered him for a long moment, then took his champagne flute from his fingers easily, and gave both their glasses to Emeka. Oscar swallowed again. He’d forgotten anyone else was even around.

“We’re going to dance,” he announced, and caught Oscar’s hand and led him to the floor.

The music was good- low and fast, perfect for dancing. He focused on that, his own dancing, shaking off the shock and mute shellshock. Zolf dropped his hands over his shoulders and danced facing him, keeping their bodies close. He kept beat perfectly, matching Oscar’s moves with ease.

“Went over to Hamid’s earlier today because I hadn’t danced since I got my new legs, and wanted to practice a bit. Plus, I don’t have a nice dress or much of anything at home anymore.”

“You… did you dance with your  _ peg leg _ ?”

Zolf smiled mischievously. “I wanted to make sure I still could. I know you never saw me dance before.” His expression sobered a bit. “Did you really think I was hating this?”

Oscar shook his head. “It’s… complicated.”

“I can take it. Fire.”

“Fine. I thought you really, really,  _ really _ didn’t want to come. For some reason. I just… I may have been stereotyping. Sailor cleric dwarf, brash and outspoken and honest. It didn’t seem to fit with partying.”

“I mean, you’re the one who’s always saying you contain multitudes. Me too,” Zolf pointed out.

“Fair. And you weren’t talking about it at all, and you just… I thought you were hating this. I thought you didn’t want to do this at all. I thought you were  _ furious. _ I expected us to come here and for you to be miserable, and I would be miserable as well because I can’t be happy if you’re not, because I’m in love with you, etcetera. And I would be sad because normally I love parties, but you would be bringing me down, and we would leave early and unsatisfied. And I was already upset at you for that, upset that you wouldn’t put effort in for me. And then I was upset with myself for harboring expectations that were careless and unrealistic... “

“It’s okay if you have bad thoughts. As long as you don’t act on them.”

“I was being an ass and I’m sorry,” he blurted, burying his nose in Zolf’s hair.

“I think you’re wonderful, for the record.”

“I’m really not.”

Zolf pulled back and studied him. “How could you think that? You’re brilliant and capable and thoughtful.”

“I thought our relationship was doomed because you didn’t want to go to a party,” Wilde said slowly. “I honest to goodness thought we were never going to work. Because of this. And then I realized how absolutely horrid that is of me. To think our relationship was doomed. Just because you weren’t going to fake enjoy something that I enjoy. That’s thoughtless and disrespectful.  _ I am _ thoughtless and disrespectful.”

“That’s a load of shit. You’re still a person, you’re allowed to have second thoughts and hang ups.”

“I was being petty.”

“That’s allowed too. And you recognize that, and work hard to move past it. And that’s why I think you’re amazing. Not because you’re so clever and good, though that’s pretty great too. I love you, because you know how easy it is to be an ass. You could’ve kept on being petty and shallow and disrespectful. You’ve done it once and you know how good it feels to be an ass. But every day, you chose to do the hard thing. You force yourself to be kind and thoughtful. So maybe you were an ass once. It means you’re working harder than the rest of us genteel folk. You’re at a disadvantage, but you fight regardless.”

Oscar stared into his eyes, parsing this. Kindness didn’t come naturally to him. His first thoughts and initial intentions were hardly ever the nice thoughts and good intentions. He was always having to work to be a good man. He thought that meant he was truly an asshole.

“So you had some crappy thoughts. You were going to move past them. You were choosing to not pick a fight and not take it up with me. You say you wanted to stay and have fun, but you had every intention to leave early with me, expecting I would be having a bad time. That’s what counts. It doesn’t matter what someone is ‘deep down’. It’s what you chose to be. And you picked being nice. Do you understand?” Zolf said. They’d stopped dancing and were just holding each other while the people around them whirled and moved. Zolf’s face was set and serious.

“I love you. And I’m proud of you. I know you can be an asshole. I knew that all along- even before I fell in love with you. That’s not a surprise and it’s not something I’m willing to handle. I want to work through this with you and I want to be with you as you become the beautiful, wonderful, loving person you’re working so hard to be. Alright?”

“I… right. Yes. Okay.” He was saving his words in his memory, focusing on registering this in his mind forever. Zolf, glorious and sharp in makeup and a dress and jewels, holding him at the center of a dance, after a tumultuous week, telling him he knew he could be an ass and loved him despite it- even,  _ because _ of it.

“I love you,” Oscar added quickly. The low feeling was inverting hard, like swooping up on a rollercoaster. He felt a bit like he was floating, flying. “I love you. Zolf. I love you,” he sighed, leaning in to pull him into a searing kiss, right on the mouth, a hunger of a different sort, an urgency to make him understand, to breathe his air and never leave him.

He could feel Zolf smile against him, kissing back just as hard, his own desperation to show his love palpable as he moved his mouth against his. When he pulled back, they both were a bit breathless.

“I love you so much, Oscar. And I’ll tell you as much as you need it. No matter how bad you feel or what you think is going to happen, I’ll be right here to remind you.”

Oscar laughed, unable to contain his joy, squeezing him in a tight hug. “I can’t believe I didn’t know you like parties and like dancing.”

“I can’t believe you thought my cooking anger was anger at you.”

“I can’t believe you could get so angry about cheesecake.”

“Blasted cheesecake. Do you want to dance, or what? I want to dance now.”

“Yes,” Oscar said fervently. “I would like that.”

They had a  _ great _ night.

**Author's Note:**

> Zolf's look is based on this:  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BGS064-m1H0/?igshid=da11vkqcud1r  
> or just google Osric Chau dress and it's the black scale one. You'll know.
> 
> EVERYONE IS THERE AND EVERYONE IS GAY. Skraak/Jasper and Saira/Amelia/Liliana and Zolf/Wilde and maybe even Barnes/Haringay idgaf MAKE IT GAY


End file.
